


Suspended in Air

by bonestilts (orphan_account)



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Benji hurt, CONTAINS MASSIVE FALLOUT SPOILERS, Ethan also hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, idk if this counts as, still read if youve seen tho :), takes place after the movie ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:58:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bonestilts
Summary: Benji thought the marks around his neck would clear up before Ethan regained full consciousness. Turns out the truth about his mishap with Lane would have to be told anyway.





	Suspended in Air

**Author's Note:**

> THIS CONTAINS MISSION IMPOSSIBLE FALLOUT SPOILERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE YET. DO READ IF YOU HAVE AND/OR DO NOT CARE ABOUT SPOILERS. god knows i would wait because goddamn that film is just exquisite.
> 
> (i wrote this very quickly, there are most likely errors, just choose to ignore them please and thanks!!)

It didn’t take long for Ethan to start moving again from his spot in the hospital bed. It never does. For as long Ethan’s blood is pumping, he will continue to stay on his feet. As much as that seemed like a relief to Benji, he couldn’t help but also feel very concerned for his long-time friend. They’d been working together for many years now, their relationship growing as each day passed, and the pain Ethan endured never ceased. It worried Benji to no end.

Benji cared deeply for Ethan Hunt, more than he’d care to admit, and there were only a few things he couldn’t stand. The taste of blood being one of them, the other being witnessing Ethan in pain; whether that be being shot, breaking an ankle, getting punched, falling over, stapling his finger, getting his hand jammed in a door or even just biting the inside of his mouth. Whatever hurt Ethan, hurt Benji too. So it seemed ridiculous to him when Ethan came stumbling into his cabin, located in the very same village they’d saved from two insanely dangerous nuclear bombs, early one afternoon, only three days after being slammed around in a helicopter with Agent Walker on his tail. 

“Couldn’t stand spending another minute in that bed,” Ethan explained when Benji raised his voice in concern, wondering why on earth he was standing at the doorway to his bedroom, “As sore as I am, there’s no point in me lying down there when I could make use of myself over here.” He pointed towards the laptop Benji had previously been tapping away at.

“There’s no new mission,” Benji glances back down at all the tech on the wooden desk he’s sitting at, despite it looking like he’s working on something, he was really just erasing all history of their previous mission, “If you were wondering.”

Ethan stepped closer to Benji, dragging his left foot subtly as he made his way towards the Brit’s bed. He tried to ignore the quiet grunt he emitted when sitting down on the mattress. 

“No, I didn’t think there was. I haven’t heard any news from—“ Ethan stopped himself, but Benji already knew what he was about to say. He assumed he’d forgotten and suddenly remembered half way through his sentence. 

Benji remembers pushing the lump further down his throat as he yelled out to his team that there’d been a man down. He remembers kneeling down by Hunley and taking hold of any part of the man, as if it would resolve any of the wounds that had already been caused. Benji always knew that they’d have to be a casualty at some point during his time in the IMF, just never knew it would be that soon, nor to someone who was relatively knew in their role. 

Ethan stayed silent, Benji made sure that he was still staring at the desk, his back towards him. He had never had to deal with a death of a close teammate before, sure there had been agents that been struck down while he was on the job, but not one that had made such a big impact in his life. It led him to start wondering how he would cope if Ethan died. God knows he wouldn’t be able to function anymore.

Benji lifted himself up to turn his chair around so that he could face Ethan now.

“How’s the, uh,” He looked Ethan all over, what part of him wasn’t bruised? “Well, how’s everything feeling?” 

“Not too bad. Knee’s still a bit crooked, neck too, but nothing time can’t fix.” 

Benji let Ethan have his turn at looking at him. He’d had his chance to stare at Ethan all he’d liked when he was out after being recovered from the mountain, now it was Ethan’s chance to make sure Benji was still in one piece.

“How are you, Benji?” 

Benji nodded, “M'kay.”

“What happened to you while the connected went out?” 

Benji looked him in the eye, which parts was he going to leave out? “Luther worked on the first bomb while Ilsa and I went through the hospital tents in search for the other one. Signal went crazy when I entered this one room full of cases, which I was sure one was holding the bomb, turned out it wasn’t. And then we found the bomb in one of the cabins. Took a leap of faith in you and bam! Here we are.” He made a point of using gestures and smiling faintly as if to convince Ethan everything was A-Okay.

“And Lane?”

“What about him?”

Ethan looked at Benji sternly, it made his skin crawl. “What happened to him?”

Benji swallowed, shifting his eyes away from him now, “We ran into him on the way to detonating the bomb and— Ilsa tied him up while I—“

“No she didn’t. I can decipher between her knots and yours, Benji. Don’t lie to me, tell me what happened.” 

The blatant truth on the tip of Benji’s tongue caused the skin on his neck to sting dully, reminding him of what really happened whilst Ethan was also fighting for his life on a cliff. “He had…” Benji felt nervous, uncomfortable. Cowardly. Ethan motioned for Benji to come sit next to him, most likely so he didn’t feel so alone on the other side of the cold room. He did as he suggested.

“Go on, just say it.”

Benji took a breath, “He had Ilsa tied up when I came in, I didn't hear her scream, I couldn't she had something in her mouth, then—then he got me from behind and—I mean I tried to fight back but he somehow managed to get the—it was all really confusing, but he pulled on the, uhm,” Ethan put a hand on his shoulder, he was unable to finish, “It was the most scared I've ever been. Christ, Ethan. I thought I was going to die, right then and there.” 

Benji turned to look at Ethan now, his face scrunched up in a mixture of fear and nausea. A part of him was sure he’d matured since last Lane had his life on the line, with either a gun to his temple or a deadly bomb strapped to the ribs encasing his rapidly beating heart. He was sure he’d finally got a taste of what it was like to be an field agent, not just a technician sitting in his rolling chair whispering directions to the great Ethan Hunt over the phone. But it only seemed to squeeze him further in his shell. 

Being a field agent had, so far, been one of the scariest things he’d ever experienced in his life. He couldn’t hide the fear he felt when near Lane, and he knew Ethan could see it, probably even smell it on him. He knew that everyone could see it and it weakened him as an agent. 

“What did he—?” Ethan stopped, eyes widening slightly at the sight of Benji’s neck peeking past his shirt collar. “Did he… no. No, Benji.” His hand reached up to graze at the purple-blue bruises blossoming underneath his skin, there was red streaks in some places, brown in others. It was obvious that he'd been suffocated in some form, and it looked damn painful. Benji knew what it looked like like it was the back of his hand, he had examined it in the mirror for hours. It didn’t make him proud to have a battle mark, it only made him more frightened of what would come; if only one mentally unstable man could do _this_ to him, what could a gang of hitmen targeting him to? 

“He didn’t strangle you, did he?” 

There was a hitch in his speech that Benji almost believed was from panic. 

“No.” If he was hoping this would calm Ethan, it didn’t. 

Ethan stood up abruptly, his hand on Benji’s shoulder causing him to stand too. He faced his teammate with his fingers wrapped around Ethan’s wrists as he tried to pull down his shirt collar furiously. Trying to see more of the damage Lane had caused on Benji.

“What did he do? _What did he do to you?_ ” The pitch of his voice surprised Benji, it was laced with such horror and dismay, that Benji was almost certain he could be talking about Julia instead. Ethan leaned in closer to get a better look at the incredibly dark bruise circling Benji’s entire neck. “Did he wrap something around your neck? Pull you by it?”

Benji tried not to answer, tried to not to cause any more anger within Ethan who really needed to be lying down, sleeping, resting, healing. But he nodded anyway, even added, “He hanged me.”

Ethan took a step back then, alarmed. His mouth was open slightly. He looked at Benji with what could only be described as pure terror, and not even for himself, but for Benji.

“Oh, God. How long? How long were you off the ground?” There was a certain urgency in his voice. 

Benji tried to pull a face to hide the fact that his bottom lip had started to tremble from the memory of being dragged up off a solid surface and left thrashing around in the air. Of trying to dig his fingers underneath the thick, coarse rope in any hopes of disconnecting it from his throat. The heavy weight of fear being one of two things suffocating him, dripping through his blood and clouding his mind. All logic, tactic, went out the window and he was left to follow his human instincts of just panicking, kicking, trying to call for help, trying to breathe again. The heat of his face and neck as his lungs silently screamed at him to do them justice. And then the relief when the very tip of his boot felt the box beneath him, and when he was finally able to breathe again and reminded himself that he was an agent and that he was trained to deal with these situations. That he needed to pick himself up and not let himself die by the hands of Soloman Lane. 

And then his lasting thought of Ethan Hunt as he finally succumbed to unconsciousness. 

“Long enough.”

Ethan took a step forward so that their boots hit, “Benji.” he carefully wrapped a hand around his neck and guided his head forward until their foreheads were resting together, “I’m so sorry, Benji. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I know I—“

“You promised you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Never again, never again will I let anyone lay a finger on you. I will be there for you from now on, no splitting up, no no-service, no solo acts. Just together. I promise.” 

“Yeah, but, how do I know you mean it this time?”

“I’ll show you.”

He did show Benji, and thank god he decided to make the first move, otherwise Benij feared he may have had to retire right then and there; out of worry and fear, this time both for Ethan’s and his own. They huddled close for the rest of the evening, Ethan embracing Benji with determined protectiveness and Benji returning the affection with arms gently wrapped around the smaller man, not wanting to harm him any more than he already was. 


End file.
